


Pajamas

by bisexualowain



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12089046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualowain/pseuds/bisexualowain
Summary: For day 4 of Udobure Week on Tumblr!





	Pajamas

“Brady, darling, put that violin down!” Maribelle knocked on the door after entering her son’s room.

“Am I doin’ something wrong? Not playin’ the song ya like or sumthin’?” Brady asked, furrowing his brow.

“Oh no, your playing was lovely, as usual. It’s just that Owain is coming over, so you should get ready to be a good host, my dear.”

“WHAT?” Brady did not mean to yell, or for his voice to crack so obviously, for that matter. “Whaddya mean ‘Owain is comin’ over’? That ain’t sumthin’ ya can just drop on my lap like this!”

“Well, I’m sorry, but what was I supposed to do? My darling Lissa just called to say he was on his way here!” Maribelle complained, crossing her arms.

Brady knew better than to press her, and it wasn’t as if she was wrong, in this case. “Sorry ma, it’s just… there’s no tea ready and I kinda look like a wreck.”

“No son of mine could ever look like a wreck, dear. Just change your shirt, I’ll prep the teatime,” she reassured him, messing with her curls.

Brady stashed his violin in its case and ran to his closet to find a suitable shirt - he still wore the black pajama shirt he had gone to bed with last night - He bit his lip as he rummaged for what to wear, not wanting a shirt that made it obvious how skinny he was or one that was too froufrou for a simple hangout.

The doorbell rang before Brady could decide. Though all of his yelling was done internally, he marched to the front door with the messy shirt anyways. “Hey Owain, nice of ya to drop by.”

“Sir Brady of the Moistened Eyes! It makes my heart glad to see you’re doing well. It’s been a while,” Owain greeted, practically pouncing on his friend.

Brady couldn’t help but note how nice Owain’s cologne smelled, but he buried the thought deep inside of himself. “Didn’t we see each other like two days ago?” 

He didn’t need to ask, remembering their last meeting to the tiniest detail. They were just watching a movie but if he had to, Brady could describe how excited Owain was to see it in the theater, how his eyes shone with happiness and how his lips crooked when he smiled…

“Oh, perhaps, but any measure of time feels twice as long when I’m not spending time with a dear friend!” Owain stated, inviting himself in once it became clear Brady was a tad embarrassed to do so after the hug. “I should probably have warned you of my visit beforehand, now that I think about it. My bad!”

“Oh, ya don’t hafta worry about that, it’s not an issue,” Brady smiled, directing Owain to sit with him by the table, despite his earlier fussing. “If ya really feel like ya have to, just send me a message.”

“Could I call instead?” Owain question. “Oh, good afternoon Miss Maribelle! I’m assuming mother already invited you to her birthday next week?”

Brady was rather glad his mother showed up, else he might have needed to ask Owain why he’d prefer calling. Some part of him wanted it to be because Owain liked his voice.

“Oh hello, Owain!” Maribelle greeted him, bringing the tea and helping Brady serve himself and Owain. “Hah! Did you forget I’m the one planning it? As if I could miss such an important event in her life!”

“Ya say that every year, ma,” Brady teased.

“Well, it is true every years, so...” Maribelle began, before she seemed to remember something. “Oh, the balloons! I’m glad you mentioned the birthday, dear, I need to rush and buy the balloons she likes!”

“The heart-shaped pink ones?” Brady asked.

“You know it, darling!” Maribelle affirmed, grabbing her purse and bolting for the door. “You boys have fun, I won’t take that long!

“Your mother is a very dedicated lady,” Owain noted, taking a sip of his chamomille tea, though it was more sugar than tea at that point, as Brady knew it was to his tastes.

“Ya can say that again... I wanna have my life together like that someday,” Brady commented, with a deep sigh.

“Oh? It seems to me you’re already on your way there. I didn’t even properly warn you I was visiting and yet you already prepared tea to receive me! That’s quite admirable on its own, don’t you see?” Owain said, adding in a wink.

“Yer a regular flatterer...” Brady pouted, practically hiding his face in his cup. “I mean, sure, but did ya see the shirt? Not exactly my best and most formal, yeah?”

“I only compliment those who deserve it,” Owain added, puffing his chest. “I don’t think you needed to wear formal wear or anything. We’re having tea, not getting married.”

Why did he have to phrase it that way? “’Course not, but I’m still… kind of a mess and the shirt probably stinks a lil’ too.”

“I think you smelled nice,” Owain put it plainly. “No perfume, but it very much smelled like you.”

If the conversation continued in this route, Brady was sure he would eventually melt into a puddle and slide off his chair. “I should prolly get changed, come to think of it, can ya wait here?”

“Oh, you really, really don’t have to, Brady, and...” Owain narrowed his eyes. “Wait, is that… oh hey, it IS!”

“Huh?” Brady asked, completely confused, almost taking a sip from his now-empty cup.

“Don’t you remember how you got this shirt?” Owain smiled.

Then it hit him. This shirt was actually Owain’s. Brady was unsure if he was happy to remember it, or if he wanted to stick his head in a hole and disappear forever. “It’s… the one you gave me after you slept over, isn’t it?”

“You put the wrong shirt on, wore it for the entire next day and then wanted to give it back to me when you realized it!” Owain snorted. “I like how it looks on you, though...”

“Uhh, thank you, Owain,” Brady said, after a rather lengthy pause, red as a beet. “Wanna do homework together?”

“I may have come over at least in part to copy your math notes, I’ll admit...” Owain giggled.

Brady snorted, walking towards his room to retrieve his backpack. On his way there, he pawed at his shirt. It was probably the most comfortable one he wore, and he hadn’t considered it until just then that it might be so because it used to be Owain’s.

Closing the door, Brady leaned against it for a moment to gather himself. He wondered when would he finally gather enough courage to tell Owain how he felt, but if anything was clear, it was that the time for it seemed to be rapidly approaching…

Unbeknownst to him, in the next room, Owain berated himself mentally for being too obvious in his flirting. He wouldn’t want to start sounding like Inigo, after all.


End file.
